Disclaimer: this is intended as a humour Christmas piece; all the afferent references are therefore intentional and I am not claiming credit for any of them (i.e., I did not come up with the "A Christmas Carol" storyline!). And of course "Stargate" doesn't belong to me, either, and because this world is not fair, neither does Daniel (though my Christmas list is open!)
A/N: This little Xmas plot bunny is less a bunny and more a...mad hatter. It's all over the place, really. Please take it with a grain of salt!
Enjoy :-)
Daniel's Christmas Carol
1.
The last thing I remember thinking is 'oh, not again'.
So here is how it all started. Or rather, how it all ended—the more correct, if gloomier, term.
There was a bright light. There's always a bright light. Take it from someone who has had all too much experience with this. And by 'this', I mean passing, moving on, crossing over, embarking on the last journey—or, as Jack would so eloquently put it, kicking the bucket. Whatever you name it, rest assured that I did it.
I shouldn't be so flippant about it, really. But once you've died about five times or so, the mysterious beyond is not so mysterious anymore, and it becomes a little like getting on the commute train. You know exactly what it is and where it's going.
Although…come to think of it, this place is kind of weird. All old and damp and dusty, like the naquadah mines on P3X-55—wait a second.
This doesn't look like a naquadah mine, it is one! I hadn't noticed before, but there's even a couple of abandoned tools lying on the ground, and I can see a waterhole ahead.
I must say, a derelict naquadah mine is not exactly your run-of-the-mill door to the afterlife. Wonder who came up with this lovely setting…
"Danny-boy!"
Oh, no. No, no, no! What the hell is Jack doing here? He can't be—I mean, why would he—no, Jack would never—he is absolutely not—
"Come now, is this any way to greet an old friend?" (He's winking at me with that infuriating self-confidence of his, and what on God's sweet Earth is making that awful rattling noise?) "I'm crushed—well, or at least I would be, if I weren't all, y'know—" (there goes that wink again) "—immaterial and transparent."
Now that he mentions it, I can kind of see the ragged walls of the mine through him. What is going on here?
"What are you—"
"Ohh, good question, Daniel," he cuts me off, "but ask me what I was."
Uhm.
"I was actually going to ask you what you're doing here."
"Yea I know. I was giving you a hint."
He makes a great show of whispering conspiratorially. I have no idea what he's talking about.
"What's going on, Jack?"
And would he stop—floating already?! Seriously, it's distracting.
"Look, Danny, I'm here to give you a warning of what lies ahead."
Ehm. What lies ahead, actually, is a muddy waterhole and a chipped, rusty hammer. And that's exactly what I tell Jack, but all he does is roll his eyes.
"Figured you'd pick this moment to go all literal."
He walked to nearest cave wall, and now he's entertaining himself passing a transparent hand through it. Hello, I know I'm dead, but this is far-fetched even for the ascended Ancients. If they think an abandoned naquadah mine has a strong emotional meaning to me, either they need a therapist, or I do. And I still have no idea what Jack is doing here.
"Whoa!" A long chain just materialized out of the blue; it's coiled around Jack's neck and shoulders and trailing a long way behind him. Why does this scene seem vaguely familiar? "What's that?"
"This, my friend…" he pulls demonstratively at the links, "is the chain of command."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, I've been dragging this around for ages now…seeing as how I consistently used it to evade happiness in life, it's only fitting, ya' see. Me and my chain of command…oh and there's some rules and regulations twirled in there somewhere, too."
Never thought I'd say this in a conversation with Jack, but he completely lost me.
"Are you saying this is what lies ahead for me? Being annoyingly cryptic, transparent and lugging around the—er, chain of command?"
"Nope! This is mine, and I'm not sharing!"
Now he's waggling his index at me. I know he passes through walls, but can I at least try to punch him?
"Now, Danny-boy, it's been lovely to chat, but there's people waiting outside and I'm getting paged about the hold-up."
I have a feeling I'm staring at him with my mouth wide open. Is this some kind of ascended Wonderland?
"Now be good and pay attention," he instructs me, "and maybe you won't end up dragging one of these around, after all."
And before I can say anything else, he vanishes with a loud pop! and I could bet he found that funny. Damn Jack and his damn flippant ways. Now what am I supposed to do with myself? I don't want an afterlife of mining for naquadah!
***
A/N: Thank you for reading!
This is actually a completed story, and I will be updating once about every couple of days. (it's not very long, either, only a few chapters!) Meanwhile, I would love to hear from you!
Until next time!
Enjoy the holiday season and stay warm!
Myosotis